L'ombre de Samedi
by Alliot
Summary: To make a pact in voodoo, a few drops of blood is all that’s needed. Charlotte was oblivious to doing anything except cutting her finger while looking for her cat in a dusty old emporium...but no one could miss the sudden misfortunes of Tiana and Naveen.
1. The Hunger

Disclaimer: Not mine. Rights go to Disney-Pixar.

_L'ombre de Samedi_

**Prologue – La Faim**

"**The Hunger."**

Nights in the bayou were always alive with sound. Mama Odie stood at the threshold of her abode, leaning against the doorway and meticulously, but easily, piecing together an image of what her four working senses could tell her. The swampy odor of the bayou drifted up into her nose, and she listened to the mosquitoes and moths whining and thumping against a lamp hung outside her door. Something rustled in the reeds at the base of the tree, bullfrogs with belching sounds and peepers with their high pitched tones, and there was a small group of alligators lurking just beyond the light of her house again.

"Nice night, eh, Juju?" Mama Odie rasped a laugh and reached down to pet the head of her green water snake, who nuzzled her palm affectionately. "Good enough to share, and I believe we have a visitor, don't we now?"

Juju briefly curled around her ankle in response, and then slithered back inside. Taking her pet's cue, Mama Odie turned around and hobbled back in, her bare feet thumping on the wooden floor.

"Dr. Facilier!" she called, her head tilted towards the ceiling, where a sizable hole in the roof was. "Why didn't y'all come in the front door like a proper gentleman? Y'all should know you're welcome at Mama Odie's." She wheezed with laughter at her own joke. There was an unamused hiss in response, and an emaciated shadow of a man in a top hat slithered into the room through the hole. It was ragged and wraithlike and hung about the ceiling with no owner.

"Say, y'all look different," Mama Odie commented with a sly push of her tinted shades up her nose. "You _really_ a Shadow Man these days. But come on in and tell all the details to this old blind lady--Juju!" she shouted, although Juju was coiled right by her feet and watching what was left of Dr. Facilier, head swaying warily. "Get me into my chair!"

Without waiting, Mama Odie picked Juju up and the snake went ramrod straight, becoming her walking stick and her eyes for the small obstacle course that was the floor of the boat: A large old tub, furniture here and there, and shelves shoved with strange, dusty artifacts. She came to her overstuffed chair and sank into it; Juju bent into a footrest for her.

No sooner had she sat down than Dr. Facilier grasped the shadowy back of her chair and hissed, "You _know_ all of the details. Mama Odie, don't play me for a fool -- make me human again."

Mama Odie lazily recalled the last time someone - two people - had asked to be made human. It was no surprise that the man responsible would eventually have come to her with the same request. But she hadn't granted it back then to more deserving people, and she didn't see any reason to grant it now.

"Two young people once demanded from me the same thing, Facilier," she cackled, placing one foot over the other and leaning back into her chair comfortably, unafraid of the malevolent shadow behind her. "And do you know what I told them?"

Facilier snarled in response, his shadow mouth leering unpleasantly as he knew what the answer would be. "Then tell me, Mama Odie, why ever did y'all bother with voodoo magic in the first place if you weren't planning to ever really _use _it?"

"Oh, I use it, Facilier, but only in ways that'll keep me outta debt," laughed Mama Odie, riling the shadow that still lurked over her shoulder. She reached into her pocket and casually tossed an old peppermint into her mouth, whiling it away in her teeth. "So y'all tell me, how did you get away from you Friends? They give you a vacation?"

Furious at knowing he was being made fun of, Facilier abandoned the chair and snaked along the walls and to one of the rows of shelves. He began to tear through them with abandon, sending objects and their shadows to the floor: Worthless or disused talismans; stacks of old parchment with charts written on them. Bottles were opened, looked at, and then discarded with a smash onto the floor. From them spilled dust, perfumes and liquids, and powdered substances.

"I'm…_j'ai faim!_" Facilier's spirit howled with anger, finding nothing that he could use. "I'm hungry!"

"Oh, I suspect that English will go first, am I right, Facilier?" cackled Mama Odie, sitting up in her chair, the peppermint still knocking around inside her mouth. "Then the French, and then what'll you have left, eh? Hissing and spitting like the rest of the spirits."

Facilier abruptly turned and his dark, clawed hands shot out, trying to pull the elderly woman by her shadow from her chair. "Give me souls or make me human!" he hissed, but recoiled away when Mama Odie picked up a lamp next to her chair and brandished it at him.

"If y'all wanna stay welcome, you better stop making a fuss." Mama Odie set the lamp down and put her feet on the floor. Juju twisted around one of her ankles, leaning its head out and hissing at the disruption. Mama Odie's raspy voice had gotten its first warning edges to it, but she still grinned with all she had of her old teeth. "But you know, y'all better go get what you want before your Friends realize you gone away without permission."

The shadow glared at her with empty eyes, sensing a threat behind the words. Then it mockingly tipped its hat towards her and said, "I'll be taking my leave, then." And without another word, Dr. Facilier swept back out through the roof and into the bayou night.

Mama Odie sat there looking up at the hole in the ceiling, chewing on the mint. When she swallowed the shards, she sighed and got up from her chair, rubbing her sore tail bone. "Juju, sugar, go tell them Cajun firefly family of Ray's that they got someone they'll want to see."

Her pet obliged, slipping out the door, and Mama Odie hobbled over to her big tub to make some gumbo. Someone would need to keep watch on that Shadow Man.


	2. Good Blood for a Bad Man

_I can't even begin to tell you how nice it's been to receive such a warm welcome for me and my story. I'm so glad to know that a lot of people seem to be reading and enjoying it already – it's great to have all of you along. _

_I was also delighted to receive some compliments on my accuracy with the characterizations, because admittedly, I'm still getting comfortable with all the characters. Once I settle in, it's a snap (Mama Odie has just fallen into place for me), but bear with me here as I adjust to the rest, one by one._

_Someone also asked me about pairings. I don't consider myself a romance writer, so I'm not really going beyond the obviously essential Tiana/Naveen. _

_Now, here is my reassurance chapter to you all, to let you know that yes, this is a continuing story. But realistically, a chapter will take me 1-2 weeks to write._

_Disclaimer: Not mine. Rights go to Disney-Pixar. There's a bit of Alice in Wonderland influence in this chapter, too._

_L'ombre de Samedi_

**Le Sang Pur pour un Homme Méchant**

"**Good Blood for a Bad Man."**

_Earlier that evening, Saturday_

"Laissez-Fae?" Charlotte La Bouff called out sweetly from the hall. She peeked around the doorway into her bedroom, her eyes darting around for her fat, white Persian cat. Laissez-Fae, or "Lazy Fae," wasn't lounging on the duvet or sitting by the window sill, two of the places she usually was found. Where could she be?

"Laissez-_Fae,_" Charlotte tried again, coming into the room and clapping her hands, but no sweet cat came out to greet her from wherever she was hiding. Charlotte counted to three in silence, then huffed in irritation and yelled over her shoulder, "_Big Daddy_! _I can't find my Laissez-Fae_!"

She didn't have to wait long to hear her daddy's heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. A large-bellied, waistcoated man with gingery hair and mustache appeared in the door, huffing slightly. "What seems to be the matter?"

Charlotte turned to him and pointed accusingly behind her. "Big Daddy, I can't get my Laissez-Fae to come out, and I saw her come in here. She's hiding from me."

Eli "Big Daddy" La Bouff looked over his daughter's head and into the room, which betrayed no sign of a cat anywhere. After a moment, he cleared his throat. "You, er, weren't torturing that poor cat again, were you, princess?" Charlotte, ever since she was a little girl, had nursed a bad habit of accidentally terrorizing her cats. Some of her favorite activities were to randomly and happily pick them up and shove them into the faces of strangers, or to dress them up like dolls in gaudy outfits. It was a miracle she hadn't gotten more than a few scratches from them in her lifetime.

Charlotte pouted. "Of course I wasn't. I was just washin' and brushin' her and getting her jeweled collar back on. I wanna bring her to Tia and Naveen's big restaurant opening tonight." Abruptly, she turned and stomped her foot, irritation back in full force. "Come out here, cat! Or _I _swear, if y'all make me _late…_"

"Now, now, Lottie, you still got at least an hour," Daddy La Bouff reassured, laying a large hand on her shoulder and pointing towards the open doors that lead out onto the balcony. The setting sun was just beginning to touch the rooftops of the stately buildings of New Orleans. "We'll be the first ones there to greet Tiana and Naveen."

"Not if this cat don't come out soon," growled Charlotte, setting off. She stalked around her room and began to throw aside pillows and curtains and other things around the room, looking for her pet. "Did you hear that, Laissez-Fae?" she called, resting her hands on her knees and stooping to try to see under one of the chairs. "If y'all don't come out, you're gonna make us _late_!"

Charlotte next tried to look under the sofa, but she couldn't see without getting down on her knees. "Help me, Daddy," she said, wringing her hands. "I just cleaned this dress." She was wearing a slim, freshly-pressed silk dress in petal pink. Since it was Tiana's night, not hers, she had left the done-up petticoats and farthingales in the closet for a more sophisticated look. Her hair was meticulously brushed into a bouffant style, and her face was waiting for her blushes, lipstick, and mascara.

Daddy La Bouff gave a furtive glance to the room. Every inch was spotlessly clean, like the rest of the mansion, but knowing Charlotte could not be swayed, he just sighed and obliged, not wanting to see his little girl have a full-blown tantrum this close to leaving. With a grunt, he crouched on his stubby legs and peered underneath the sofa, Charlotte anxiously looking over his shoulder and repeatedly asking if he could see Laissez-Fae. Sure enough, the cat was huddled under there, fur damp and sticking up in all places, and looking unwilling to leave its hiding place with Charlotte still in the room.

Daddy La Bouff sighed and reached with one arm under the couch, beckoning to the unwilling feline. "Come on out, Laissez-Fae. Daddy's got catnip for you if--"

"Oh, Big Daddy, you _found _her!" Charlotte trilled with happiness from above, then threw her arms around his neck and held on.

"Oof!" Daddy La Bouff nearly toppled over from the unexpected weight and threw out a heavy arm to catch them both on the edge of the couch. The sudden movements startled Laissez-Fae, who yowled in fright and shot out from under the sofa. Charlotte was up in a flash and at the balcony a second later, just in time to see Laissez-Fae's bushy white tail disappear over the railing. She watched as her cat hopped neatly down, down, all the way to the courtyard grounds and back up into one of the planted trees.

"Oooh," she fumed, seeing her cat rest in the tree's lower branches and lick its shoulder idly. She spun on her high-heeled feet and tromped back indoors. "Big Daddy, I'm gonna to go get that cat right _now._"

Her father, who was just beginning to push himself to his feet, held out a hand to stop her before she could scurry downstairs.

"Lottie, don't you waste your time going after Laissez-Fae now."

Charlotte stopped at the door and turned around. "But--" she started to protest.

Daddy La Bouff went over to a dress form and plucked a necklace inset with pale pink stones. "She's gonna make you late for Tiana's big event, and you want to be there first, cat or not, don't you sugar?" As Charlotte sank into the cushioned chair, defeated, he leaned in and put the necklace around her neck. It matched her dress and dangling earrings perfectly.

"Yeah, 'course I do," she said, lifting the necklace up with her hand to look at it, then shifting her gaze back to the open doors of the balcony.

Daddy La Bouff helped her up from her chair and steered her over to her dresser, where a mirror and makeup were waiting. "She wants to see you more than anyone else, so you'd better finish up. Laissez-Fae will come in later, and if she doesn't, you'll have a new kitty-cat in the morning."

Charlotte brightened, satisfied, and smiled at herself in the mirror. "I'm holdin' you to that, Big Daddy." She flapped her hand at him in a shooing motion. "Now leave me 'lone so I can get all dolled up for Tia." She got a pat on her head and a chuckle in response, and then her father left. Charlotte considered herself for a moment, then grabbed the mascara first and determinedly got started.

* * *

"Oh, Lord, I can't wait!" Charlotte was unable to contain herself, clasping her hands together and staring out at the passing streets with delight. When she and her father had left the house, they had noticed with dismay that Laissez-Fae was no longer up in the tree and nowhere in the house, so Charlotte had gotten into their top-down automobile grumbling. But as soon as the doors of the automobile had closed and they started for the restaurant, she had reverted back into being as happy as a lark.

"I can't wait to see Tia and Nuh-veen!" She sighed dreamily and leaned against her father's shoulder, who looked down at her and smiled. "And do you know what's the truth, Daddy?"

Daddy La Bouff didn't even try to answer. He just opened his mouth as if he were about to say something and--

Charlotte plowed on happily without him. "The truth is that girl's the luckiest gal in New Orleans," she said confidently, unsnapping her purse in her lap with her gloved fingers and pulling out a hand fan. It was the beginning of the summer after Tiana and Naveen married, but that didn't matter to Charlotte La Bouff: she still loved to talk about their good fortune like they were still newlyweds. "A man like that, and her getting to be a real princess, just like in the fairytales." She fluttered the fan in front of her face.

"My little girl will get her own man soon," said Daddy La Bouff affectionately, pinching his daughter's cheek gently. "Just you wait and see."

Charlotte sighed dramatically. "I know, Big Daddy, but right now I'm a princess without a prince." She sat up straight and snapped the fan shut, holding it against her cheek and looking up at the darkening sky thoughtfully. "Maybe at the restaurant tonight, I'll grab me some of those delicious beignets and woo a handsome man. I still gotta try that finding his heart through his stomach thing." In a flash she replaced her fan with a hand mirror from her purse, which she held close to her face, gazing critically at her reflection. "How do I look, Daddy?"

"You look as pretty as the evening star, Lottie. Now--"

"_Daddy! Stop the car!_"

Charlotte had dropped the mirror and the purse onto the seat. Her gloved hands were now on the top of the car door, and she was leaning over it to stare at something. Her father yelped in shock, afraid she was going to suddenly fall out, and hastily repeated the command to the driver, who quickly pulled over and parked on the curb. The people passing by on the street looked at them, startled to see a well-to do, young white woman clambering over a shiny automobile door without bothering with the simple task of opening it.

"Lottie, what _has_ come over you?" Daddy La Bouff said in confusion, and tried to reach for her to pull her back into the automobile, but she jumped onto the sidewalk, purse in hand. There, in the alleyway nearby, two cats froze and stared at them: one was a black and scrawny thing, but the other was a well-groomed white cat.

"Laissez-Fae?" Daddy La Bouff asked in disbelief.

Charlotte was practically pushing up her long gloves, her face radiating with determination. "That cat is coming with us to dinner after all. I'll be right back, Big Daddy. Laissez-Fae!" she roared with all of impressive vocals. Laissez-Fae streaked off into the dark alleyway, and young lady La Bouff was immediately in hot pursuit.

"I gotta go after y'all, is that it? Oh, you betcha I will!" Charlotte's voice echoed off the stones of the alley and into the street, fading fast.

"L-Lottie, Lottie, come back here or we're going to be late!" Daddy La Bouff shouted, but his voice weakened and trailed off as he noticed that passerby had stopped and were now staring between him and the narrow alley. He sighed and sank into his seat, signaling the driver to shut off the engine.

* * *

Charlotte couldn't run very fast with high heels, a dress that hugged her all the way down to her ankles, and a purse swinging from her arm, but she managed to keep sight of Laissez-Fae. Her cat was heading straight down the alley, just behind the black stray, and they both vanished out the other side, and a few moments later Charlotte herself came out of the narrow darkness and into an old courtyard. It wasn't well kept: it had a twisty, gnarled tree growing up from the cobblestones, and the yard was surrounded by decrepit apartment buildings.

Charlotte slowed to a stop in the center of the yard, panting and impatiently pushing a stray blond lock out of her face. She looked around for a telltale white, fluffy streak, and -- there! Laissez-Fae was squeezing through a hole made in the corner of a rotting wooden door.

"There y'all are." Charlotte stomped after her and marched right up to the doorstep, but paused as she put her hand on the dull handle. The door was painted a dark purple – odd color, and unlike all the other doors around – and there were strange designs scratched in chalk over it. Slowly, Charlotte looked upward at the rest of the building, and there, above three broken lights, was a sign.

"...What _does _that say? An emporium?" she squinted. In the fading light it was hard to see, and the letters were scuffed up and decaying, but there was the word "emporium." It was spelled out on the brim of a painted hat, but Charlotte couldn't make out what was written above it. Shifting her gaze back to the door, she hesitated and pulled her hand away, eyeing it. Something about this was suspicious, but her curiosity was piqued.

"Well that's just grand, isn't it," she stated to herself, placing her hands on her hips. She stared at the door for a moment, deciding whether it was a good idea to go inside. Maybe it wasn't very polite, but if anyone was home in this rotting-out hovel, she'd just say, "Excuse me, but my cat ran in here, don't mind if I do." Deciding that was a good answer, Charlotte reached out, turned the handle, and pushed on it. Somewhat to her surprise, the door was unlocked, and it swung inward with a rusty creak.

It was black as night inside. "Yoohoo? Anybody home?" she called into the gloom, but no one answered, not even an echo of her own voice.

Her adjusting eyes could faintly make out shapes along the walls. So, the room wasn't empty, but it sure seemed abandoned, as far as she could tell. Still holding the door open, Charlotte stuck her head inside a little further, breathed in, and promptly sneezed. It was dusty and dark, so she pulled a handkerchief out, covered her nose with it, and with her free hand groped for a lamp or some sort of light.

"Laissez?" she called with a muffled voice, then her hand encountered something in front of her that felt like a thin metal chain. She pulled it, and at the very back of the room, a light bulb flickered on.

"Oh my stars…" Charlotte gaped, stuffing the handkerchief back into the bosom of her dress, and quickly looked over her shoulder to see if anyone from her daddy's vehicle had come to fetch her yet. She saw nothing but the empty courtyard and heard nothing but the old tree rustling a few leaves. "I'll just be a second," she told herself, nodded in permission, and slipped inside.

The emporium reminded her of the rooms of fortunetellers and gypsies. The walls had old bureaus pushed up against them and rickety shelves overflowing with trinkets, strings of beads, rag dolls, and other knickknacks. She made a brief face at a few skulls that sat grinning, hats flopped over their heads. The floor under her feet was dark and carpeted, and it smelled unpleasantly dank and moldy, but Charlotte's attention was ultimately fixated on the illuminated area before her.

It was a stage, draped with thick crimson and indigo curtains. Large, strange masks hung from high up on the back wall, above a patterned curtain, like props for a set. Up on a circular platform in the center of the stage were three old chairs and a table; something rested on the center of the tablecloth.

"What is sittin' on top of that old thing?" Charlotte whispered to herself. Overcome with curiosity, she scurried over, ascended the stairs onto the stage, and approached the table. What was resting on it was a stack of…

"Well, that's an awfully interestin' lookin' deck of cards," she observed, and brushed her finger over the top one. It left a fine trail of dust, which she rubbed between two of her fingers. "And I can see they ain't been used in awhile."

Charlotte pulled off her gloves and opened her purse, stuffing them inside to keep them from getting dirty. She placed the purse on the table, and picked up the deck of cards to get a closer inspection of them. They were large and made of a heavy paper. She turned them over, and what met her eyes on the other side were intricate, medieval-looking illustrations, certainly not like the standard playing cards that were placed in parlors. "Never seen ones like this before…"

Without being very aware of what she was doing and the consequences for it, Charlotte slowly sat into the nearest chair and for a few minutes completely forgot about looking for her cat and getting back to the automobile. The cards' illustrations mesmerized her with their patterns, strange pictures of men and women and scenes. Each one was fully colored and labeled with a roman numeral at the top, but none bore any title. For a long moment, Charlotte stared at a picture of a trumpeter angel with a man and a woman standing underneath, wondering what it was. She was so immersed that when there was a rustling sound from her left she jumped, startled, and the corner of the card sliced across her thumb.

"Ow!" Charlotte leaped up from the chair, dropping the offending card and the rest of the deck along with it, where they landed and spilled across the unpolished, hardwood floor underneath the table. She bit her bottom lip in pain and clutched at her cut finger, then grabbed her handkerchief from the bosom of her dress again.

"Oh, this is just _swell_," she muttered to herself, and quickly pressed the handkerchief to the paper cut, which had welled up with blood. A few drops had already fallen from her finger, but all she cared about was that none of those drops had stained her dress. The cut wasn't deep, either, but it stung and it ruined her perfect look and Charlotte's bottom lip trembled. She looked around herself, and seemingly for the first time realized what a strange place she was in, alone. To add to the mess, her dress was dusty and she was surely late and had no cat to show for it.

With no other options, Charlotte lightly pinched the cloth to her injury and paced the stage, waiting for it to stop bleeding. She checked the cut every few seconds, and around the fifth or so time, something in the room rustled again, and it sounded to her ears like a whispering of, "_Êtes-vous prête?_"

"Now I'm hearin' things, too." But it felt like something in the muffled, stale air of the room had changed, although Charlotte had no idea what exactly it could be. Her eyes darted towards the ceiling, where the masks up on the walls grinned down at her with their carved faces, laughing eyes, and sharp cheekbones.

"Maybe I'd best be going back now," she said a little nervously. Awkwardly holding her handkerchief to her finger in the same hand, Charlotte crouched down and began to hastily pick up all the cards. She nearly had them all stacked into a deck again when something else on the floor caught her eye, and she stopped to peer at it.

It was those strange designs and paintings again, like the ones that had been on the door. They were in many colors - green, purple, white – and seemed to glow in the faint light. "Sure is a strange place," Charlotte whispered to herself, and hearing her own voice helped her calm down. She briefly brushed her bare fingers over one of the etchings and then stood up, the deck clutched in her uninjured hand.

Something bumped against her leg. Charlotte shrieked in surprise, nearly dropping the deck again, and whirled, her hand pressed over her heart. For a panicked second, she had no idea what had happened. There was a soft meow from nearby her feet, and something brushed by her leg again.

"Eh?" She looked down, and there, innocently, was Laissez-Fae, but no black-furred companion. In this haunted old place, her cat seemed more than happy to see her again, nuzzling her ankle and purring.

"Lord," she breathed, her heart still jumping in her throat. "I thought...well, I ain't sure what I thought." Charlotte dropped the deck clumsily back on the table and checked her finger. It wasn't really bleeding anymore, so she put the soiled handkerchief in the purse along with everything else, closed it, and balanced the handle on her wrist again.

"Come on, Laissez-Fae, you mischief-makin' cat," she said, stooping to pick up the fat feline up, "we're leavin'. This place is makin' me _ner_vous." She glanced over her shoulder again at the strange wooden masks – more sinister than the ones at Mardi Gras – and jumped when she thought she saw something move, but it was just her shadow making distorted shapes in the faintly flickering bulb light.

With Laissez-Fae curled up into her arms, Charlotte hurried down the steps of the stage. Her heels had just touched the floor's carpeting when something made her whirl and nearly trip over her own feet; Laissez-Fae meowed loudly in fright.

The stage was suddenly flooded with colors and lights. The patterns on the floor seemed to have come alive, because sparks were shooting from them and flying all about, and the eyes of the masks all around had filled with a glow. A whoosh of air swept through Charlotte's hair – from the open door behind her? - and made the curtains on the stage flutter. "_Êtes-vous prête?_"

And Charlotte La Bouff stared along with her cat, open mouthed, as the thick curtain was dramatically swept back as if by invisible hands, and the floors and walls of the emporium began to tremble minutely. Revealed behind the curtain was a another hanging mask, but this one looked big enough to be set atop a Mardi Gras float. It leered down at the visitors, steam spilling from its nostrils and its mouth, a maw open and wide enough to fit double brass doors. From between its razor sharp teeth came more swirling smoke and a bright glow.

"Oh my _stars_..." Charlotte stammered, backing away and clutching Laissez-Fae. The cat's fur was standing on all ends and she seemed ready to bolt again. "What is this? I must be _dreamin'_..."

In response there was a dull boom, like something big falling, or an echoing laugh. Something else, a strange black shape, darted out from the mouth of the chief mask and vanished. Charlotte rapidly blinked the spots out of the eyes, wondering if she was hallucinating more than she already was, because now she was seeing the expressions on the masks _changing_, like they were made of modeling clay instead of wood. Their eyebrows flattened and their lips turned down into angry, open-mouthed frowns.

Were they angry with _her_? Charlotte felt her legs shaking in fright, but she kept standing there and kept staring. Before her disbelieving eyes, the chief mask's lips twisted for a second, and then its teeth clenched together and its mouth snapped shut. All at once, the glows in the masks' eyes and the lights on the floor went out, and everything was plunged back into darkness except for that single, dim bulb that swung above the table.

There was a beat, although Charlotte's heart managed three in that time, and the great heavy curtains closed, bringing down a muffling silence. As she watched, a shadow stretched out in front of her and against the indigo backdrop, but it didn't look anything like her own. It was a human figure, that was for sure, but it was broad-shouldered and...was it tipping its hat off to her? She could've sworn its mouth moved, too. At the same time, her dress rustled against the floor with another breeze that came from outside, and the brush of fabric made a sound like the whisper of _Enchanté_…

But then the bulb stopped swinging and it was just her own shadow again, clutching a cat.

"It's definitely best be time to get goin'," Charlotte said, backing up all the way to the door, Laissez-Fae huddled up in her arms like she was a lifeline. "All this dust and tricks of light...I'd swear I was seein' magic things..."

The second she felt herself step out onto the stones of the courtyard again, Charlotte La Bouff reached out, slammed the emporium door shut, and hurried back to her daddy's automobile, looking back only once. She sure had a story to tell now, if nobody thought she was crazy for telling it.

_-_

_"Êtes-vous prête?_" - Are you ready?


	3. Troubles That Can't Be Left at the Door

_All you readers are so smart, and I love to hear what you're thinking and wondering when each chapter comes to a close. It makes writing this story that much more fun. Thank you, everyone._

_Side notes: For the sake of pitch-perfect accuracy, a technicality was corrected in the color of Charlotte's outfit for the restaurant's opening night. Also, I'm unaware of any of Tiana's friends (from the Caf_é_) having official names except for Georgia, so I fictionalized them (I did the same for Naveen's parents and his little brother)...like many other people are doing. I apologize for making you adjust to more new names!_

_Disclaimer: I have ten 8.5"x11" pieces of lined paper filled with plot notes for this story, and all of them belong to me. However, all the characters, settings, and general concepts go to Disney. I ain't making a cent, but I'm sure as heck having a lot of fun._

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* * *

  
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_L'ombre de Samedi_

**Des Soucis Qui Ne Peuvent Pas Laisser ****à**** La Porte. **

**Troubles That Can't Be Left at the Door.  
**

Coming out of the alleyway and back into the street was like waking up from a daydream on a drowsy Southern afternoon. Nothing had changed outside: People were walking to and from home in their normal routines, talk and music filled the air, shiny black automobiles chugged along and trolleys rattled by. It all was as Charlotte left it, except...

"Theo! TheoTheoTheo!" she called, freeing up one arm from under Laissez-Fae and waving it wildly. Theo, a young African-American man and one of the chauffeurs to the La Bouff family, was sitting alone in the parked automobile. He started at the sound of her voice and quickly picked up the driver's key. "Yes'm?"

Charlotte ran up and leaned over the passenger door, eyes darting around to each of the seats. "Where's Daddy? Where'd he go?"

Theo's hand was on the wheel and his other was ready to put the keys in the ignition, but he hesitated. "Why...he just went out lookin' for you, miss. Y'all didn't see 'im?"

Charlotte shook her head, a few more locks falling loose from her bouffant hairstyle. "I sure as sugar did not," she said, while Theo discreetly glanced between her and her cat. They both looked out-of-sorts, and he wondered to himself to what lengths Laissez-Fae had gone so that both pet and mistress had ended up that way. He knew about Miss La Bouff's sometimes-unfortunate incidents with cats; and he had heard the earlier commotion when she and Mr. La Bouff had first left the house; but both of those times, not as many hairs had been out of place for either of them.

Charlotte stood there by the side of the automobile, looking unsure about what to do. She agitatedly tucked some stray hair behind her ear and kept looking back the alleyway, which she sincerely was not about to walk back into. "Oh, Big Daddy, why'd you have to go lookin' for me?" she said to herself with some exasperation. "I told you I was only gonna be a minute."

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, then leaned back over the car door again, trying to get a glance at the watch Theo always wore on his wrist. "What time is it? How long was I gone?" Even if she had tried to keep track, it would've been impossible in that dusty, haunted emporium.

Theo pulled back his jacket sleeve and looked at the two tiny hands on the clock face. "I say you'd been gone ten minutes, miss. It's around quarter of seven now."

"Quarter of seven?" Charlotte repeated, dismayed, and sure enough, she heard the chime of a distant clock tower. "But Tia's restaurant opens at seven sharp! And I wanted to get there before then--oh, Laissez-_Fae,_" she grumbled, pulling open the side door of the automobile and letting her cat out on the seat. "I knew you were gonna do _somethin'_ to make me late. Now I'm wonderin' why I brought you at all."

Laissez-Fae just went to the far end of the seat and curled up on it, mollified. Sighing, Charlotte climbed in after but left the door open for her father's return, and wearily put her things down on the seat between herself and her cat. Reaching out, she tapped the top of the driver's seat behind Theo's right shoulder, and he looked at her briefly. "Yes'm?"

"As soon as Big Daddy gets back, you're gonna step on it, you hear?"

Theo nodded simply, and Charlotte leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms, waiting impatiently. She wanted to tell her daddy right away what she had seen, but what was _really_ making her burst at the seams was that every second that trickled by brought them close to seven but no closer to the restaurant. She asked again for the time, and Theo patiently told her.

Over the next few minutes, as Charlotte inquired again and again about the hour, and each time getting more fidgety at the answer, she slowly became aware of the look Theo was giving her. It was a blank, innocent expression, but there was something in his eyes, something a little concerned, and Charlotte suddenly pressed her hands to her face, mortified. "Oh, no, how do I look?"

Without waiting for an answer, she opened her purse and rummaged around the bottom for something in it, pulling out her gloves and throwing them on the seat in the process. "I got all – oh, where is it?" She held the purse wide open with both hands and brought it close to her face, peering into it.

"Is there something I can help you with, ma'am?" Theo offered cautiously, relieved that he didn't actually have to answer the question about Charlotte's slightly mussed appearance.

Charlotte was too busy searching around to properly acknowledge the question. "My mirror is gone—oh, here the silly thing is."

She abandoned the purse, reached down by her feet, and picked it up from the floor. "Must'a fallen," she stated to no one in particular, brushing off its lacquered casing and opening it up. Her face fell as she saw her reflection. "I really got all ...scuffed up in dusty in that old building gettin' Laissez-Fae..." She anxiously touched her face. "What am I gonna do 'bout this?"

"Charlotte!"

Charlotte snapped her head around and saw her father hurrying towards her from the same alley she had come from. "Big Daddy!" she gasped, and scrambled to get out of the vehicle. "Where have you been?" They met on the curb, and Daddy La Bouff put his hands on his daughter's shoulders.

"I just went lookin' for you everywhere," he said, taking in the state of her attire – dusty, disheveled, and her dress slightly crumpled - with concern. "Where have _you _been, princess?" He wanted to scold her for running off, but she looked so upset that his heart melted and he relented. Over her shoulder, he signaled to Theo to start the car.

Charlotte jumped slightly at the sound of the revving vehicle and peered up into Daddy La Bouff's face, distress in full force. "Oh, Daddy, look at me, I'm a right mess, aren't I. I'm gonna embarrass myself. I'm gonna embarrass Tia. It's all Laissez-Fae's fault, she--"

Sensing a tirade coming, Daddy La Bouff interrupted Charlotte for once and hurried her in the direction of the vehicle, where Theo and – finally – that cat Laissez-Fae were waiting. Charlotte reluctantly got in and sat down, looking terribly worried.

"Don't worry about it, princess," Daddy La Bouff hastily went to reassure her as he slid into the other seat and shut the door. "We'll get you fixed up before we arrive." He gave a nod to Theo, and the driver merged their automobile back into traffic, which was becoming more heavy as night fell, and they were off again. They sped along as fast as they were able to down the streets, bumping along the cobbled roads.

Meanwhile, Charlotte had lost all interest in looking around them as they drove close to the waterfront and headed for the restaurant. She continued to talk a mile a minute, but it was all under her breath and foul-tempered, so Daddy La Bouff gave her all the space she wanted and wisely did not say anything.

Charlotte first pulled her gloves back on and brushed them off, then used her hands to smooth out the slight rumples in her dress. After that, she balanced her mirror in her lap and dragged a comb through her hair, tucking everything back into place. She briefly considered reapplying the tubes of makeup and the blush, but then the vehicle gave a lurch on the road and she changed her mind.

They were nearly at their destination when Charlotte stopped muttering and complaining, gave one last unsure look in the mirror, and closed it. Daddy La Bouff took this as he cue to speak up.

"I know y'all must be upset with Laissez-Fae and what she did, but you look perfect as a picture book."

Charlotte lips tugged slightly at the corners, but it was still unsure and a little quavery, so he added, "It's just the smile that needs a little fixin'," and she gave him a fuller smile.

"Thanks, Big Daddy," she said, and reached over to pet Laissez-Fae next to her. Seeing that cat brought back a lot of unanswered questions to Daddy La Bouff. Foremost were the ones about where Charlotte had disappeared to and why she had come out looking like she had tussled with Laissez-Fae. But he hesitated, looking at his daughter's face closely to see if asking her now, this close to the restaurant, would just upset her. She looked calm, but her posture was tense, and he guessed it was because it would be seven o'clock any minute now.

So, he tried for a gentler approach.

"Lottie, y'all worried me when you ran off like that. It was over five minutes when I finally went lookin'. And I came into this old courtyard at the end of the alley..." At this, Charlotte turned her eyes from Laissez-Fae, listening with all of her attention. Daddy La Bouff was further worried by her lack of inclination to interrupt. "Are you alright, princess?" It was like Charlotte had a lost a lot of her perkiness for some reason, and he hoped that arriving at the restaurant would cheer her up.

Charlotte opened her mouth and was about to plunge into all the strange things she had seen inside the emporium, but then the automobile turned onto a new street and slowed down, distracting them both. New music was reaching their ears on a breeze coming off the bay, along with the growing murmur of talk and chatter. Charlotte leaned forward and looked out over the windshield of the car, and what she saw made her mouth snap shut and her eyes widen.

She had seen the restaurant in its planning stages, and had come down every once in awhile to visit Tia and Naveen and to check on how the building was coming along. But when this year's spring rolled around, Tia and even Naveen had their hands completely full with work for completing the construction of the restaurant, and Charlotte herself had become caught up in the annual Mardi Gras festivities. Between this-and-that, the friends had hardly seen each other. Charlotte quickly counted back and realized that she had not seen the restaurant since the end of March.

In a way, that made the sight even more spectacular. The sugar mill had been converted into a five star hot spot that looked bigger and fancier than any of the ones Charlotte dined at uptown. Tiana and Naveen had expanded the building – it stretched a story above the ones around it – and purple and yellow lights lit the outside walls. Crowning it in bright, blue neon lights were the words, _Tiana's Palace._ Everything else on the street looked like shanty houses in comparison.

Charlotte continued gazing up in awe as Theo parked the automobile on the curb of the street, behind another small line of cars in the shadow of the restaurant. Slowly, through her amazement, a grin broke across her lips. "This sure is Tiana and Naveen's dream comin' true," she said to herself, but it was quiet, and her Daddy seemed too amazed himself – he hadn't been down as often as she had been, either – to have heard her.

By the big entrance, a well-sized crowd of people was gathering, bathed in the golden light spilling from the open doors. They were murmuring and talking animatedly, and sweet Louisiana jazz was filtering out into the street. With excitement Charlotte recognized the song _At the Jazz Band Ball, _an upbeat tune with a lot of trumpet and nickelodeon piano, and a record that got a lot of use on her player back home.

"Well, ahem," Daddy La Bouff cleared his throat and adjusted his tie, pretending he himself hadn't been stunned by the grandeur of the restaurant, "we'd best be goin' in, princess, if we want to see Tiana and Naveen 'fore they're caught up with the rest of the crowd."

"Oh, Big Daddy, you know they're savin' a seat just for us," Charlotte said, hurrying to scoop up her purse and Laissez-Fae. "But you're right, wouldn't want to keep them waitin.'" She opened her door, stepped out, and let Laissez-Fae leap onto the sidewalk. Daddy La Bouff exited his side of the vehicles, and in unison, they shut their doors.

The father-daughter pair joined up on the sidewalk and linked arms, and as they walked past their automobile with Laissez-Fae tagging along at their feet, Charlotte rapped the driver's door.

"Come on, Theo, y'all invited too, our treat," she giggled, and skipped alongside Big Daddy La Bouff the short way up the street. Theo stared after them for a moment, not sure he had heard correctly, but when Charlotte nudged her father, got a nod from him, and looked over her shoulder and jerked her head in the direction of the restaurant again, he opened the door and slowly got out.

The La Bouffs approached the front doors of the restaurant, and out over the water, a bell could be hear chiming. "Perfect timin'," Charlotte commented happily, and Daddy La Bouff hugged her shoulder affectionately, relieved that the whole fiasco of getting here had not been enough to ruin the evening ahead for her.

The appearance of the La Bouffs from the dusk of the night and into the bright lights of the restaurant attracted attention from the group that was beginning to line up to go inside. There were some well-dressed people in line, but the majority were black folk who gave the impression of friends and family of the owners, or the local townspeople who had come to witness the likes of which they had never seen in New Orleans before. They quieted a little at the sight of a white, high-class pair coming up.

"Nice evenin'," Charlotte chirped, waving at them in a friendly way but heading straight for the door, cutting the line entirely. Daddy La Bouff smiled politely at the mixed expressions – offended, surprised, cautious - as they walked up alongside the line. "Excuse us. We were invited by the kind proprietors of this fine establishment," he explained, and it was to his great relief that when they neared the front of the line, someone familiar called out to them.

"Miss Charlotte! Mr. La Bouff!"

Waving at them from the line was the tall and skinny Georgia, one of Tiana's friends and frequents at Duke's Café. Next to her was Ruby, with her round face and thick brown hair in curls peeking out from her cloche hat. They were both standing in their Mary Janes and wearing simple, light brown wrapover coats over their blouses and skirts.

"Well, if ain't Georgia and Ruby!" Daddy La Bouff strode up, Charlotte right by his side and smiling from ear-to-ear.

"Evenin' girls," she chimed in.

"Both of y'all lookin' mighty fine tonight," said Ruby, looking approvingly at Charlotte's pink ensemble and Daddy La Bouff's pressed dark-green-and-mustard suit.

"We hope we ain't too overdressed for the occasion," Daddy La Bouff replied, and shook each of the girl's hands, paying no mind to some of the startled looks of strangers. He looked around and smiled genially at them all. "Well, well, nearly first in line! We were plannin' to have that honor, but we hit a few snags on the way here..."

He and Charlotte traded sheepish looks down at Laissez-Fae – curled around Charlotte's ankles and purring innocently again - and then at each other. "But nothin' serious," Daddy La Bouff added prudently, patting his daughter's arm.

"Say, where are the boys that are usually doggin' at your heels, waitin' for a dance?" Charlotte asked Ruby and Georgia, attempting to peek over the girls' shoulders as if expecting the fellows to suddenly appear.

"Is anything else ever on your mind, girl?" Ruby asked, crossing her arms and smirking slightly.

Charlotte winked. "Man-catchin' beignets will be my desert tonight."

Ruby giggled and Georgia piped up again. "Charles and Anthony will be comin' along shortly. We expected them to be on time, seein' as they don' gotta worry 'bout hair and makeup and other fancy things." She sighed and placed her hands on her hips, looking around. "So much for that."

"Got that right," laughed Charlotte, and then leaned in to whisper to them rather loudly, "At the masquerade ball, Prince Naveen himself was hours late!" Technically. She drew back and fanned herself with her hand carelessly. "Shows how much you can trust a man to be on time." She blinked and then suddenly clutched her father's arm. "'Cept for you, Big Daddy. This time ain't your fault."

Daddy La Bouff just chuckled and glanced at the doors. "Well, girls, we'll be headin' on in soon." He craned his neck, trying to see, but while the front doors were opened, the second set of doors that led into the restaurant were still closed. "Should be any minute now, I suspect."

"I should hope so," came a nasally voice from the line. "We've been standing in line here ten minutes."

It seemed that the Fenner Brothers were also at the beginning of the line, but they had been overshadowed in height by Georgia and Ruby. They stepped carefully around them now, so that they wouldn't brush against them as they went by (the girls shot disgusted looks at their backs and rolled their eyes), and made their way forward to the La Bouffs, straightening their gray jackets in a very businesslike manner.

Daddy La Bouff tensed almost imperceptibly and Charlotte's smile weakened for just a second. The Fenner Brothers were influential and powerful in business, and among the aristocracy that commanded respect, but it was no secret of what an oily pair of salesmen they were. "Henry and Harvey Fenner," Daddy La Bouff said gravely, holding out his hand.

"Mr. La Bouff." Henry, skinny and pale and hawklike, shook his hand politely, and Harvey, shorter and more rotund, followed suit. After they drew their hands away, the brothers both adjusted the small round glasses perched on their noses, and Daddy La Bouff subtly wiped his hand on his pant leg while they weren't looking. It was Henry who spoke first before the silence could become tense.

"Fine evenin' for the openin' of a..." his eyes coldly flicked to the glowing lights of the restaurant, "fine establishment."

"Of course, I'd say nothin' less for the finest restaurant New Orleans has ever seen," said Daddy La Bouff boldly, while Charlotte anxiously noted that Georgia and Ruby had turned away from them and were whispering to themselves.

"I'm sure we'll see," Harvey said, eyes also straying to the grand exterior of the restaurant.

Daddy La Bouff cleared his throat. "So, why exactly are y'all down here tonight anyway, Mr. and Mr. Fenner?"

Henry Fenner's eyebrows raised delicately. "We were about to ask you the same question. What's a family of your status--" He never got to complete the sentence, however, because the inside doors to the restaurant suddenly opened, and there stood a handsome fellow in a white suit and fine black dress pants.

"Welcome, everyone, to Tiana's Palace!" Naveen announced as he stepped over the threshold, his arms outstretched with welcome and his face aglow. Everybody in the line turned and looked, and Georgia and Ruby had gotten that sort of mixed awestruck expression that most girls still got when the prince of Maldonia proclaimed his presence.

Charlotte, naturally, recovered first. "Naveen, sugar!" she called, and yanked on her father's arm impatiently. "Come on, Big Daddy. Let's go say hello."

"Good evenin' to you, Mr. And Mr. Fenner," Daddy La Bouff managed to say before being dragged away, and for once relieved to be. The Fenners nodded curtly.

Naveen's smile was brilliant upon seeing them. "Charlotte and Daddy La Bouff! Welcome, welcome," he said, clasping both of their hands with his own in turn. "Achedanza, it has been too long. It is so nice to see you again."

"Delighted to be here," Daddy La Bouff said, smiling broadly, while Charlotte nodded in earnest.

"Where's Tia?" she asked Naveen, glancing around. "I thought she'd be out here with you."

Naveen shrugged his shoulders sheepishly. "Tiana is in the kitchen, thinking she is still a waitress and not the owner of the restaurant." He stepped to the side and gestured for them to come through the doors of the restaurant. "I will get her. For now, come this way. We will let you in first."

"Don't mind if we do," chorused Charlotte and Daddy La Bouff cheerfully, and headed inside.

"Hold on a second." Georgia had her arms crossed and she was tapping her foot. Naveen gave her and Ruby a quizzical look, and then brightened as he recognized them. "Ah, yes, and any other friends of my wife will get the special treatment!" he exclaimed, and with rather satisfied smirks, Georgia and Ruby linked arms and walked in after the La Bouffs. The Fenner Brothers traded glances and also started forward, but Naveen held up a palm and stopped them.

"You two will stay here," he stated, without missing a beat of charm. "There are waiters who will come serve you in a moment." He ignored the chagrined look of the brothers to observe the line of people. He waved to them, calling out, "Abinaza, everyone, and enjoy your stay!"

When Charlotte stepped over the threshold of the second set of doors and found herself in the restaurant, she stopped and took in everything with wonder. The entire place was glowing with golden light coming from large and ornate chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. Dining tables dotted the floor, covered in mint-colored tablecloths and with quaint white dining chairs. On either side, also lined with lights, were two tiers with more dining tables, and at the far end of the restaurant Charlotte saw a stage where the live band was playing, sending up a rousing rendition of _I Never Knew What a Gal Could Do. _

She felt warmth rise in her at the recognition of the title. _Why, Tia, s_he thought, _I never knew what you could do, either. You built yourself a first class restaurant._

"Oh, Charlotte," someone said. Ruby and Georgia had come in, and a waiter was ushering them to come forward and be seated. Ruby jerked her head the direction of their assigned table. "We gon' grab a table for ourselves and wait for the boys, is that alright?"

"Of course!" But remembering something at that moment, Charlotte called after them, "Oh, and could y'all do me a big favor? When Theo comes in, will y'all have him sit with you?"

Georgia and Ruby traded glances for permission, and both nodded.

"Sure thing, girl," said Georgia. "See y'all later, Mr. La Bouff, Miss Charlotte." They waved and went to sit down, and another waiter, dressed smartly in a tuxedo and with his hair combed back, came up to Charlotte and Daddy La Bouff.

"This way if y'all please, Mr. and Ms. La Bouff," he said, gesturing for them to follow him.

"Well alright," replied Daddy La Bouff briskly, and they were just about to let him lead the way when Naveen suddenly reappeared at their side.

"I will seat them," he insisted, and the waiter handed him two menus, then went to serve the other people who were coming in the door and having a reaction of wonder much like Charlotte had.

"Aw, shucks, he knew our names. Wasn't that thoughtful of him and Tia to let them know we were comin', Big Daddy?" Charlotte commented, picking up Laissez-Fae and following Naveen.

"Very thoughtful," agreed Daddy La Bouff.

"Tia sure taught him how to be a gentleman," she teased.

"Charlotte," Naveen said over his shoulder, pretending to look hurt, "I have always been a perfect gentleman..." He dropped his facade and winked. "...At least to the women. I have just also learned how to do things for others, when before, I only knew how to get others to do things for me.

"I will introduce you to my parents, as well," he continued, weaving his way between the empty tables to an occupied one near the stage. "And you may sit with them and Tiana's mother, if you would like, yes? There will be enough room at one table."

"That would be lovely," said Daddy La Bouff, while Charlotte added, "Whatever you say, sugar."

Three well-dressed people were sitting around the round table Naveen was leading them to. Two of them were facing their direction, a couple dressed in blue with graying hair and small golden crowns perched on their heads. Spotting the party making their way towards their table, they smiled and motioned for them to hurry over, prompting the other woman, Eudora, to turn in her chair.

And from there it was more exchanged greetings, embraces, and a few kisses on the cheek. Charlotte and Daddy La Bouff sat down with Eudora and were introduced to Naveen's parents, their Royal Highnesses Lyra and Emmanuel, and even Naveen's little brother Ezra, who was "six-and-a-half," as he had proclaimed proudly ("Who'd've thought that the prince woulda had a younger brother?" was Charlotte's I'll-be-darned comment, to everyone's amusement).

After that, it wasn't long before the restaurant began to fill quickly, keeping all the waiters on staff moving, and the band came into the full swing. Naveen left to fetch Tiana, and during that time stories were fondly shared around the table about Tiana and Naveen when they had been young children.

"--and each night for, oh, probably a year, little Naveen would absolutely refuse to go to sleep until the servants had read him _Di Froggi Pruto_, although he would struggle so hard to stay awake through the whole thing!" Lyra said, a hand to her lips as the corners of her eyes crinkled with amusement. "His favorite part was always the part where the princess kisses the frog and he becomes human again, wasn't it?" She looked to her husband for confirmation.

"Every time," Emmanuel chuckled.

"Ain't that a coincidence," said Daddy La Bouff, smoothing his napkin down into his lap. "When Lottie and Tiana were little girls, that would always be Lottie's favorite part. Eudora would read that story to them."

"Tia used to swear that she'd never kiss a frog, but I think she's come around since then," said Charlotte slyly, dragging a finger along the rim of her water glass, and everyone chuckled – they all knew the story by now. Charlotte had offered to make one up when Tiana returned from her little adventure, suddenly human again and married, but Tiana had declined, insisting that she wanted to be honest with her mama, no matter how wildly surreal and unlikely the entire ordeal had been.

Naturally, there had been a lot of shock for Eudora when her daughter showed up after nearly two days of disappearance with a spouse. Married without her mama's permission! Eloped! The whole story behind it had been so strange, and Naveen and Tiana had stumbled over it awkwardly, but Eudora didn't even try to make too much sense of it. Instead, to the couple's intense gratitude, she accepted it with smiles and hugs and kisses, and the only question she asked was about when the official marriage would be; Naveen's parents reactions had gone something along the same lines.

Naveen and Tiana couldn't believe their amazing luck, but they didn't push it; everyone outside the immediate family got a modified, more believable story instead. The true story remained an inside joke for just them.

"I'm still waitin' for my grandkids," Eudora jokingly complained.

Gloved hands settled onto her shoulders. "Wait until everything's settled down with the restaurant, Mama, and then we can talk about it."

Everyone looked up in surprise. There was Tiana, in a lovely dress in soft shades of green, with white gloves and a white shawl draped over her shoulders. A small golden tiara rested on top of her head.

"Babycakes!" Eudora exclaimed, and embraced her daughter, who returned it warmly. "Look at you! All done up and even more beautiful." She reached up and cupped Tiana's cheek, who received the gesture fondly before gently pulling away.

"Thank you for comin' here tonight, everyone," she said, and nodded to each of them in turn, her face and eyes lit with a soft smile. "Mama, Mr. La Bouff, Lottie, Your Majesties." She gave a special smile to Ezra, who watched her with a mix of shyness and wonder as he patted Laissez-Fae, who was happily curled up in his lap. "I can't tell you how much it means to me and Naveen."

"Did I hear someone call for me, perhaps, yes?" Naveen was suddenly sidling over to their table, a covered silver platter balanced on his fingertips. He, as he so often did, looked very pleased with himself.

Tiana put her hands on her hips, her cheeks dimpling with amusement. "I think so, your Princeliness."

"No no," said Naveen, holding up his free hand while he lowered the silver platter to the table. "At this moment, I am a simple, although most handsome, waiter. And this waiter presents to you our first special of the night." With a flourish he pulled off the dish's lid, revealing a plate of hot jambalaya garnished with shrimp and spices. Everyone ahhed and clapped appreciatively, and he grinned. Even Laissez-Fae peeked over the table from Ezra's lap and eyed the dish intently.

"A toast!" one of them cried then, and everyone lifted their glasses. Seeing Naveen with his arm around Tia and them smilin' away like that made Charlotte's worries melt away, and with that the evening began to pass by in a blur. Naveen finally convinced Tiana to sit down and eat dinner with them ("Do not worry about what goes on in the kitchen! You have chosen your cooks, everything will be perfect!"), and following the jambalaya, the main course of gumbo did not disappoint.

After a long time, the courses were finished and the dishes were cleared away, but the band continued playing. After one of the songs ended and another lively one was struck up, Naveen asked Tiana to to dance. As everyone looked on expectantly, Tiana became visibly nervous, but then Naveen whispered something into her ear and she got up, taking his hand.

With a whoop of joy, Naveen took her up onto the stage, and they danced next to the band, Firefly Five Plus Lou – trumpet, piano, drums, tuba, clarinet, and trombone - to _Bugle Call Rag. _Charlotte and Eudora both swore up and down that they had never seen Tiana dance as freely as she did then, and soon they joined in. Before long, the other patrons got the idea, and the whole place was jiving.

Some time into _In My Honey's Lovin' Arms_, Naveen pulled Tiana back into his arms after spinning her around, but when she came into his embrace she suddenly paused. "Did you hear that?" she asked him, a frown marring her lips.

Naveen, too, had thought he had heard something like plates breaking, faint and distant. "Hear what?" he feigned, spinning her around again so that they were facing each other . He moved his feet, trying to get her to continue dancing. "I can hear nothing but the band and your lovely voice, Tiana."

But Tiana was resisting his charm at the moment, and her feet remained firmly planted on the ground. "It was from the kitchen," she said, looking over her shoulder with concern; the kitchen doors were tucked down a small hallway to one side. "I should go check and see if everything's alright--"

"No, no, stay!" Naveen said quickly, holding onto her wrist as she tried to pull away and step off the stage. "I am sure it is nothing serious. You should have no worries tonight."

Tiana turned and patted Naveen's chest softly, a small smile at her lips even as the anxiety remained in her eyes. "That's sweet of you, Naveen, but let me just check." She gently, but firmly, removed Naveen's grip from her wrist, and he let her go reluctantly. "I'll only be a minute."

Charlotte, who was dancing with little Ezra, caught Tiana moving off the stage, leaving a dejected-looking Naveen behind her. Naveen resignedly picked up his ukulele and began strumming along with the band, and Charlotte's keen eyes moved to watch Tiana head for the kitchen doors in the back.

"Hey sugar," she said to her young charge, letting go of his hands and patting him on the head. "I have to go check on somethin', and it looks like your older brother could use some company." She winked. "Why don't y'all go up on stage with him until I get back?"

"Okay," chirped Ezra. Without hesitation, he dashed off to get up on the stage with Naveen.

_Bless his little heart_, thought Charlotte, taking the time to watch Ezra clamber up onto the stage and tug at Naveen's pant leg. When Naveen looked down and affectionately ruffled his little brother's hair, Charlotte was satisfied that everything over there was fine, and she quickly slipped through the dancing crowd and went through the doors of the kitchen.

Inside was as abuzz with activity as the rest of the restaurant. Orders were being called out, waiters were sweeping up completed orders and going in and out through the swinging doors, and the hiss and sizzle of hot dishes added more noise to the general din.

And there, on the floor, looking a right mess, was a young waiter. He was struggling to sit up among shards of shattered china and glass, soup dumped down his front. Tiana was crouching by his side along with one other waiter; everyone else stepped around them and continued on with their business.

"What's goin' on in here?" asked Charlotte, startled. She and Tiana's eyes met. "Oh, dear," was all Charlotte could say then, and she hurried over to help.

"I'm so sorry, Miss Tiana," stammered the waiter, looking mortified, as she and the other one helped him sit up. "I...I was about to take this out to a customer, and somethin'..."

"Did you slip? Are you hurt?" Tiana asked as Charlotte handed him a napkin that she had picked up from the counter. He took it numbly but looked up at her with wide brown eyes, grateful. When he tried to meet Tiana's eyes, however, his gaze kept falling to the floor and drifting nervously.

"N-no, I'm fine...but...I guess it musta just been a trick of light, but I turned 'round and somethin' startled me all of a sudden..." He licked his lips nervously. "It was like someone jumped in front my vision for a second, but maybe it just a shadow...."

Charlotte felt herself go pale underneath her makeup, but nobody saw. Back at the emporium – how distant it felt now - something dark had darted in front of her vision and startled her. It had been a shadow that looked like a human figure, but then she thought it was just her own in the flickering light. She opened her mouth to say something to this effect, but nothing came out.

"It's not a big deal." Tiana was too busy reassuring the young man anyway, handing him another napkin, which he used to wipe his face. "Things like this happen." She stood up and helped him stand, and the other waiter left and quickly came back with a broom and dustpan to clear up the broken china and glass with. "Go clean up and take a break. Everything'll be alright."

The poor fellow looked terrified that he was about to be fired from his job on his spot, but Tiana's kind words and tone visibly calmed him down. "Thank you, Miss Tiana," he said gratefully in a near-whisper, and hurried out a small side door to clean up in the washroom. When he was gone, Tiana gave Charlotte a half-smile and shrugged. _Part of ownin' a restaurant,_ that look said.

_

* * *

_

"Thanks for comin' to check on me, Lottie," Tiana said as the two friends stepped outside of the kitchen and into the shadow of the side of the stage, out of the way of the steady stream of the comings and goings of waiters.

"Anytime, sugar."

They both stood there in silence for a moment, and Charlotte's mind started racing in circles as she tried to decide whether to speak now, while they had this brief moment in private. "Well, I, uh...I wanted to apologize for not gettin' here as early as I said I would," she blurted. She didn't know where else to start to get to what she wanted to say.

Tiana patted her shoulder. "It probably was for the best, Lottie; it was hectic in the hour leading up to the opening tonight." She gestured to the dancing crowd. "Now let's go on back before we're missed."

_You're not even gonna ask why I was late? _Charlotte wondered. Tiana began to walk back out to the main part of the restaurant, but Charlotte wasn't ready to. Panicking, she mustered up all her courage. "Tia, wait."

Tiana stopped and turned, and Charlotte thought her friend was probably surprised that she wasn't already "back into the fray," as she had once said. "Yes?"

Charlotte's throat was tightening. She tried not to fidget with the sudden, rarely felt wash of nervousness, but her fingers betrayed her and fiddled with the fabric of her pink dress. "Before we go back out there, can I talk to you 'bout somethin' real quick?"

The crease between Tiana's eyebrows deepened slightly, and she came back to their corner, standing closer and lowering her voice in case Charlotte was going to whisper something important to her. "Of course, Lottie. What is it?"

Drat. There was her throat, closing up again. She was just getting worked up, she told herself, that was all. There was already the minor upset in the kitchen, so why give Tia any more worries? She shouldn't have any tonight, on her big night, just like Naveen said.

So Charlotte forced her cheerfulness back to the front. "Actually, it's nothin', sugar. This is your night, not mine, and y'all better be getting back to your adorin' crowd. We can talk about it later."

"Are you sure?" Tiana herself didn't look sure, and Charlotte silently scolded herself for bringing this up at all.

"Tia, since when did you start doubtin' me?" she said, giving her friend a light push back towards the crowd, smilin' away like usual. "Like I said, it's nothin' that can't wait."


	4. Interlude: The Cat and the Cards

_Disclaimer: Rights go to Disney._

_Addressing a review: I am aware that "Y'all" is a contraction of the plural "You all," but it's not unusual to hear someone use it as if it were singular and directed at one person, as well as in the proper plural. It's rather like how we often use "There is" with a plural noun (i.e. There is some things over there). It's incorrect, but that's how we speak. I'm following the more realistic approach of how people normally converse rather than perfect grammar._

_Now, I have a little guessing game for you all. The title of this fic, L'ombre de Samedi, means "Saturday's Shadow" or "The Shadow of/on Saturday." There are multiple meanings both for L'ombre (Shadow) and Samedi (Saturday). Hints of those are already within the story and will be throughout. I challenge you to figure them out. _

_Samedi is pronounced as "Saam-dee."_

"_Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player  
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage." _

_-Shakespeare_

_L'ombre de Samedi_

**La Chatte et Les Cartes**

**The Cat and the Cards**

Nearly a year ago now, the teeth of Papa Legba Atibon, the chief spirit who granted favors and thus was honored with the largest mask, closed behind Dr. Facilier. Facilier expected immediate oblivion: Silence; darkness; and death. Instead, he found himself back inside his own emporium, the table and chairs cleared away except for one, his own. He sat in it, facing the many carved, leering masks that hung above him. The room was dark, except for their eyes and the runes on the floor, which cast faint green and purple glows.

Purgatory. The fear that was wrapped around Facilier's heart shot through his veins with fresh life, and he tried to leap from the chair. But as when he had tried to escape Atibon, he did not succeed: His arms were stuck to the armrests, his feet were glued to the floor. He was a prisoner by his own design. Facilier twisted his head around and managed to look over his shoulder, but there was no door behind him at the end of the room, only darkness. From this darkness came the Shadows.

They slipped up onto the stage. "_Asseyez-vous,_" they whispered together to their guest, their voices echoing from every direction, and Facilier looked around wildly for one source, but there was none. The dark shapes were surrounding him, drifting across the walls, the curtains, and at his feet, trapping him within the circle of the stage.

"_Votre chapeau, monsieur,_" said one, and it reached up and plucked off his hat. Facilier, his hair damp with sweat and plastered to the sides of his face, cringed away from the contact. He knew that they were mocking him, mocking him with a service he used to do for his own customers.

The top hat was tossed up towards the ceiling. Facilier watched, transfixed, as it was passed from spirit to spirit, its purple feather bobbing with an unsettling cheeriness. The hat was inspected and toyed with by each Shadow, and then, when it came full circle, shredded with brutal finality. With a chill, Facilier was given a rather vivid idea of what they would do with his soul, which was as much property to The Other Side as his hat had been to him.

The scraps of the hat drifted to the floor, and the masks sneered down from above, knowing Facilier's thoughts. The Shadows' shoulders shook with silent laughter, and then they dove down from the walls and crept across the floor towards Facilier's chair. Understanding what was about to happen, Facilier struggled to find his tongue.

"_S'il vous plait, Mes Amis,_" he stammered, forgetting his English as they came closer, although it made no difference to the spirits who knew every language that had lived and died. "_Je peux recevoir pour vous les __â__mes de Nouveau Orl__é__ans_...I can still get you those souls!"

There were no ears to hear his pleas. The masks watched as silent judges while long, dark arms shot out and reached for Facilier. Instead of trying to leap out of his chair this time, he went to scramble backwards, away from the spirits, further into his chair, _anywhere, _but his arms and legs remained petrified by no will of his own.

The closest hands wrapped around his ankles. Their touch was cold, terrifying. "Y'all been good to me, and I been good to you in the past! We don't got much time! _Donnez-moi une chance!_" Facilier shrieked, his panic escalating as it had been in the cemetery. "Another chance!"

The voodoo doctor tried to say something else, tried desperately to pitch some new deals that would save his skin like they always had since the day he'd made his pact. But when his mouth moved, it moved on its own, and from it were nothing but reissues of all the promises he had made to The Other Side before.

"_This is just a minor setback in a major operation!"_

In the corner, a grandfather clock that needed to be wound creakily began to chime the hour. Facilier strained to count how many chimes there were, hardly able to ignore the eerie sensation that was creeping up his legs. Cold air brushed by his ear, and his shoulders tensed. He could feel the presence of a Shadow there, chanting the number of chimes for him into his ear. _One, two...three_..._four_...

Facilier hadn't known his mouth had opened again until he heard his own voice yell, _"I promise I'll pay y'all back!" _

_Nine...ten_, whispered the Shadow, and then stopped as the clock chimed eleven. The last second hung there for a long moment, for Their amusement and Facilier's dread.

"_Just a little more time!" _

He somehow hadn't seen them pull open his jacket and steal his deck of Tarot Cards from the inside pocket. But he did see the card one of them held, floating inches away from his eyes. It was a black card, with skeletons dancing under the moonlight, the smoke of incense and candles and cigarettes burning at their feet. Across the top of the card was a number, a roman numeral in three digits.

The clock struck twelve. The Shadows stopped shifting and the masks paused; Facilier's mouth snapped shut, and the room quieted. Then, slowly, Facilier felt a strange, unexpected calm settle over him at that final chime, and his lips slowly spread into a crooked smile.

"Well, Friends," he said, his voice hoarse from yelling, "if Prince Froggy is still locked up tight, he won't have found no one to kiss him back into a human. If he's still a frog, then so is that meddlesome young lady who broke your talisman." He leaned back into his chair, almost relaxing, and flicked the card hanging in front of him away. It spun in the air and landed on the floor.

"Now I know y'all only care for souls, but at least we have that as part of _our_ vengeance." He could only smile more as the masks glared down at him and the Shadows wrapped around him swayed restlessly. They knew that he had nothing left to offer. He was finished, and had little left to lose now, anyway. What was a soul? He had delivered so many to The Other Side that he imagined that it wouldn't be very different for it to be his own.

Sensing his acquiescence, the Shadows suddenly fell away from Facilier and dove underneath the chair, where his own shadow had been cowering. They dragged it out and tore it away from him, then pinned it down a short distance away, cackling in hideous, unintelligible voices. His shadow pleaded, its hands raised in defense and its mouth moving in the same language.

"_Inutile,_" the spirits hissed back as one, and Facilier understood the word. _Inutile. _Useless.

With that spoken, the Shadows proceeded to devour their comrade. There were so many piled on that Facilier only caught a horrifying second of a flailing arm and clawed hand, once, before it disappeared. It didn't take long for the Shadows to finish and move away, visibly engorged from their act of cannibalism, and nothing of Facilier's own shadow remained.

Before Facilier could truly react to the gruesome, faceless death, the Shadows returned to the chair and grabbed him by his necklace of dangling teeth, by his hair, by his jacket. "_Votre __â__me! _Your soul!" they chattered, their teeth gnashing. Then their mouths split open into wide leers, and Dr. Facilier paid his due.

* * *

Dr. Facilier had not expected to see Charlotte La Bouff – or the inside of his emporium, or any of Louisiana at all - again, despite the schemes and plans of revenge that roiled in his consciousness during his restless, monotonous existence as an indebted soul to The Other Side. But when the call of servitude from The Outside came, and all the spirits crowded around inside the mouth of Papa Legba Atibon as his teeth parted, hungry for a chance to leave and hunt for souls, it was her face that swam into view in the swirling mists of the portal.

Facilier remembered Charlotte with an ease of yesterday. She was a wealthy southern débutante, a young lady with unbridled energy that other souls envied, not a care in the world except for true love and friendship. But, the important detail was that she had a rich daddy with all of New Orleans on a string if he so wished.

It was too coincidental for Facilier's tastes, to find himself crowded in with the other spirits, gazing out with shadowy eyes into the dim interior of his own emporium, and to see the object of many of his schemes for New Orleans standing there staring back. _Quelle coincidence, _as the saying went. Charlotte did not seem to have even the faintest idea about what was happening. She was dressed in fine evening clothes, obviously on her way to somewhere else, clutching a well-fed white cat that looked as terrified as she did.

The Shadows waited eagerly to be called by this young woman, but Facilier understood that the rest of the ritual would not be happening. Blood had been spilled somewhere in his emporium, but Charlotte was making no move to speak any incantations, and he alone among these Shadows knew that she had no ambitions with voodoo magic.

Why, he owed her a favor.

Before the blood offering could expire and Papa Legba Atibon's mouth would close, Facilier eased forward among the clot of Shadows, getting as close to Atibon's teeth as possible. All the others were too busy chomping at the bit and listening for Charlotte's voice to even guess at his intentions, so he darted forward during their distraction, clawed his way up the pit of the resting tongue, curled around one large tooth on the lower set of teeth, and slipped down the jaw.

As soon as he had touched the floor, furious howls erupted from the mouth behind him. Facilier imagined pursuit, long arms reaching out to drag him back to The Other Side, and he fled past Charlotte's trembling figure and found refuge in the dark, dusty space underneath the old piano.

The masks' eyes searched the room angrily for him, smoke escaping their flared nostrils. Beyond the portal, in flashes, the other Shadows could be seen moving around in agitation, but none came through. From his hiding place, Facilier became at ease. If the portal closed while any Shadows were outside of it, they would have no way of returning without help. Without direction, they would wander; without someone to provide them souls, they would die. If they returned to The Other Side, they would be devoured.

Facilier smiled with his teeth. Those conditions suited him fine.

It seemed that The Other Side could no longer wait for Charlotte, or had no interest in doing so, because Papa Atibon's mouth slammed shut, the curtains dropped, and darkness fell across the room. The masks became still and silent once more, their eyes and the flooring beneath them no longer aglow. The only light that was still on was the flickery old bulb hanging above his table, swinging with a gust of air caused by the curtains' closure.

Charlotte hadn't left yet. She was still standing in the exact same place, trembling, and Facilier crept out from the piano's shadow. As a spirit he suspected that he had lost the abilities to read her palm or her cards, so the least he could do was introduce himself. He sneaked up onto the stage, mimicked sweeping off his hat like a gentleman to her, and said softly, "_Enchant__é__..." _

And then he performed a little vanishing trick. Facilier was pleased to find that he hadn't lost his edge, because Charlotte stammered something in bewilderment, staring at the spot where he had been. He watched from by the curtains in the corner, amused, as she backed up all the way to the exit, then stepped off the threshold and slammed the door shut. Faintly, her footsteps could be heard hurrying away across the stones of the courtyard outside.

With her gone, Facilier, after checking to make sure his "Friends" weren't watching through the eyes of the masks above or the dolls on the shelves, approached his table. It was covered with a fine layer of dust from disuse, but he could not know for how long it had been that way. He examined the disturbed cards on the table and then found the few small drops of blood drying on his floor. Well. The summoning may have expired, but that girl had a pact with the voodoo spirits now, and once she accrued debt, her soul was bound forever until she paid it off...if she was able to manage such a thing.

Facilier brooded over the possibilities, and after a moment, he slithered down the steps, across the carpet, and towards the door. It lead to the outside, but it would not lead to his freedom. To get what he wanted, he would have to be stackin' up Charlotte's debt real soon.

Facilier swept underneath the door and into the deepening twilight to follow her.

* * *

Much later that night, when the moon was high and the city finally slept, Facilier returned to New Orleans in a foul temper. He hadn't gone to Mama Odie's expecting a cure, but the journey had been a waste of his time. Not only had she tried to make a fool out of him, he had been unable to find anything in that broken-down boathouse that would be useful to him. Then Mama Odie added insult to injury by sending fireflies to chase him out, and they had harassed him until he had escaped from the bayou.

Nevertheless, Facilier found it invigorating to be free of The Other Side and back where he belonged – his home, New Orleans – even if he was nothing more than a wretched spirit with his body destroyed and all of his voodoo magic stripped from him. He had plans to solve all of his problems – including his still-lingering debt and winning over his Friends again. If he didn't succeed, well...a man like him didn't need reminding after witnessing what had happened to his shadow. His own soul would be eaten by his fellow spirits if he displeased them; they seemed to enjoy devouring one another when they were starved enough.

These were obstacles that would need addressing, but it was not nearly enough to ruin Facilier's mood. No, Mama Odie had merely been the final straw for tonight. Things first began to unravel when he had followed Charlotte and Big Daddy La Bouff (who both hardly looked different from the last time he had seem them) in their automobile, ending up at the edge of town that was hosting the big opening night of a restaurant going by the name of _Tiana's Palace. _

It was almost as magnificent as the one he had offered. Facilier seethed at that kept memory, lurking in the shadow of a building across the street as the La Bouffs got out of their parked automobile and walked up the road towards the restaurant's entrance.

Facilier did a little investigating for himself, slipping into one of the alleys next to the restaurant and observing the going-ons inside through the window glass. There was a live jazz band playing up on the stage, and in the corner of his vision, a waiter strode from some double kitchen doors. Facilier followed the young man with his eyes as took off with a brisk walk towards the main entrance.

He disappeared from Facilier's line of sight for a short time. When he returned, he was leading Charlotte, Daddy La Bouff, and...Facilier closed his spindly hands around the window ledge tightly, staring at them. Prince Froggy, for some reason human again and smilin' like a fool.

_How? _Naveen had been locked away; it didn't seem possible that someone would have found him before midnight. Facilier wanted to spit and curse. He should've known that there would've been another loophole in his plan that he had somehow, _somehow, _missed. It was as if all the fates were conspiring against him, because he had been holding a run of bad luck ever since he had bargained for that talisman.

The La Bouffs sat themselves down at a table with Tiana's mother and an aging couple with a young boy that Facilier understood to be the king and queen of Maldonia with one of their other sons. As they talked and laughed, their voices muted by the glass, Facilier watched and schemed. If he still wanted that La Bouff fortune and power, he would have to find a new way to dispose of Big Daddy. But revenge on Naveen and Tiana seemed the sweeter of the two. And Charlotte, sweet Lottie, would be the star of it all....

As the restaurant quickly filled with customers, and table after table became seated with people, Facilier found himself distracted. His eyes kept drifting to the other people around the room, strangers with no significance, and an agitated sensation began to grow in him.

It was _la faim_. Hunger. From his own life Facilier had always understood hunger, and he dismissed the Shadows' constant chatter about being hungry as single minded, but now that gnawing feeling was taking over his mind in ways that it never had before when he was human. The more that he thought of it, the more maddening it was to watch all the people inside, people with tangible bodies and freedom and _souls_.

Tiana appeared at the table with her beau at her side. Dr. Facilier almost wanted to sigh, _Tiana, Tiana, Tiana. _Not only had she turned down his fine offer and resisted his charm – and ain't _nobody _rejected Dr. Facilier – she had broken his prized talisman and got him dragged to The Other Side. The unaccounted for, simple little waitress somehow had gotten everything she ever wanted – her restaurant, becoming human again – while he had lost everything.

He would find out how, and why, and he would make sure that she would regret not taking his deal.

Feeling vengeful, Facilier went around to the back of the building, staying close to the shadows cast by the walls. There was a rear door, and it was opened to receive the cool air coming off of the water. It revealed a view of the kitchen, which was crowded and bustling with the activity of chefs and waiters.

Facilier looked for more subtle points of entry. Up a short way was a noisy vent, so he scaled the wall and slipped inside. At the other end was a set of metal slats, which he peered through to observe the inside of the kitchen. A stove was full of sizzling pots and pans just below him; silverware was pulled from drawers and glasses from shelves; knives raced across cutting boards and large trays were lifted above heads. Everybody was preoccupied with their own tasks, in particular a young waiter who was balancing some bowls of hot soup on a tray nearby. A malicious idea quickly formed in Facilier's mind.

The gasp from the waiter and the resulting crash of glass and china was quite satisfying to hear. Facilier, having returned safely back to his hiding place, laughed to himself at the unfolding scene of disruption, but the feeling faded disappointingly fast. Any more sabotage would have to wait, for now; he could hardly focus with all these lively, anxious souls all pressed together in this small room. A solution to his little hunger problem was needed first, and the only person who he could think of that would be any use in this matter was a certain Mama Odie.

Before leaving the kitchen, Facilier caught a broken glimpse of himself in the many pots and pan that hung from the ceiling. There were the outlines of his hat with the feather, the broad shoulders of his jacket, his pants and his shoes. But otherwise, he was like the rest of the Shadows: A silhouette of empty eyes, unnaturally long arms and clawed hands, and a wide mouth full of sharp teeth.

* * *

With much to think about, Facilier slipped through the dark, narrow alley that lead back to the courtyard with its twisted tree. He went to rest in one of its dark corners, near to where the statue stood by his emporium's door. Shadows could not sleep, so he spent his time brooding, conjuring up possible ways in his mind to win back his Friends' favor, a body, and revenge. Daddy La Bouff's little darlin' Charlotte was the key, like she had been in his last grand scheme, and could easily be manipulated. Now, how would he use a young woman unknowingly tied to voodoo – compensating for the access to voodoo magic that he now lacked – to his own ends?

There was a soft creak, and the door to the emporium went slightly ajar. It wasn't a breeze that had disturbed it, but a cat, black as coal pitch, which nudged it open and walked out. It turned its head and stared directly at Facilier with its luminous yellow eyes, a dead mouse hanging from its mouth. Its almost-skeletal build indicated that it was a stray, and it had visited a place saturated with magic and observed the stranger before it neutrally.

Facilier gazed back, his mood improving at this good omen. "_Bon soir, ma chatte,_" he greeted. _"_Good evening."

The cat's tail twitched in what Facilier would take as a _pleased to make your acquaintance_, and it dropped the mouse to the courtyard stones. It looked down, studying it, then batted it back and forth idly, although its catch was clearly already dead. Facilier extended his arm across the stones, then flicked the mouse up into the air. The cat reached up and batted it back to the ground. Facilier repeated the motion, idly entertained, and the cat responded in the same way each time.

After a few more of these exchanges, they were on good terms. Facilier moved forward and began circling around the cat in a slow, hypnotic fashion, and the animal turned its head, following him with its eyes.

"_Ma chatte,_" he began. "A friend is in need of your assistance. I seem to have lost somethin' important, and I need help from y'all gettin' it back."

Facilier stopped circling and went by the door, gesturing to it with his spindly hand. "Now I promise, it ain't difficult to recover. It's a simple deck of cards, restin' up on top of that covered table inside." He could no longer conjure images, so he made do with gestures, then dropped his arms and bowed with a tinge of mockery. "It would be much appreciated if you could bring them to me."

The cat gazed at him silently, listening but giving no indication of a yes or a no. Far from deterred, Facilier nodded to the dead mouse at its feet. "If I tried gettin' it myself, I'm afraid I'd meet the same fate as that mouse y'all so cleverly caught."

He reached out again and tossed the mouse carelessly into the air by its tail. When it came down, the cat sprang up and neatly caught it in its mouth. With its prize regained, it lay down on the stones and began to chew. Facilier watched, letting the crunch of mouse bones fill the silence for a few beats before he spoke again.

"I'm hungry myself, but finding somethin' for me to eat won't be as easy," he said, somewhat giving a pretense of nonchalance. "It ain't as simple as money. I'll need..." he paused, searching for the word, something that was happening with a frequency that was beginning to aggravate him. "_Les __â__mes. _Souls."

Facilier appraised the cat carefully. It gave no sign of acknowledgment, and it continued its meal without even looking toward him. But Facilier was a patient enough man, and he waited. Once the cat had finished eating, and licked its paws and smoothed over its whiskers, it met his gaze again. Then it turned around and slipped back inside the emporium through the still-open door.

A minute later it came back outside, a small, empty pouch in its mouth. It deposited it beside Facilier and went inside again, and the next time it returned, a short stack of cards was carefully balanced in its mouth.

"Now we're gettin' somewhere," Facilier said, rubbing his hands together in anticipation as the cat carefully set the first of his tarot cards down. It turned right around and went back indoors, and two more trips later all the cards were laid out in piles on the stones.

Facilier slipped the cards into the pouch that had been provided, manipulating the shadows easily. His new companion sat patiently, keeping still when he tied and secured the drawstring bag to its back, like a carrying pack. When he was finished, he scratched the cat's ears briefly, and as it purred he said, "With these, a lot more could be within our grasp soon."

He brought his hand away and gestured to the alley, and when lamplight eyes followed the movement, a smile curled Facilier's mouth. "Well, Friend, _Mon Amie de Samedi,_ shall we?"

Samedi padded after Facilier in the direction of the main street, and together, they set their sights on the richest estate in town.


End file.
